Beyond the main doors to the complex was a large antechamber, its floor inlaid with a complex pattern of blue and green tiles that almost gave it the illusion of the surface of a placid pool of water. Corridors curved away to the left and right, while a closed set of doors stood directly across from the outer doors. The six companions started into the room when Octurus held up his hand. His eyes darted to the left, and then to the right, where several moldy crates had been stacked in the halls.
“Company!” he shouted as the air suddenly filled with the hissing of arrows. From the shadows on either side rose a half-dozen of the same rotting troglodyte archers they had faced outside. At that exact moment, each of the Legionnaires gasped as the sensation of ice-cold water in their lungs stole their breath. They all began gagging and choking while the undead continued to pepper them with arrows. It was Octurus who managed to recover first, holding his fist beneath his breastbone and thrusting up, forcing the brackish seawater up and out. One by one, his companions began doing the same, but the Maztican did not wait. Drawing his blades, he leaped towards the nearest group of ghasts. Tower Cleaver was soon on his feet behind the demon hunter, heading for the second group of undead.
Mandi, still standing in the doorway from the courtyard, wiped the foul-tasting water from her mouth with the back of her hand. Suddenly, her eyes widened as numbing pain pierced her left side. Half-turning, her enhanced vision fell upon her invisible attacker. A heavily muscled, hulking bar-lgura stood there, a cruelly barbed spear in his hands. She gasped again as he twisted the point in her flesh, the barbs on its shaft digging into his own hands as well. He seemed oblivious to the pain.
“Demogorgon sends his regards,” Ulu-Thurg laughed.
“Give him mine in return!” she hissed, hurling magic at the demon, hoping to snuff its life out in an instant. Instead, only a mildly dazed expression came over the bar-lgura’s face, but his grip on his weapon loosened, and Mandi was able to wrench it from her body as she backed into the antechamber.
Octurus fought like a dervish against the ghasts, but quickly, he found himself surrounded. The undead dropped their bows and came at him with their filthy teeth and claws. Across the hall, Tower Cleaver was surrounded as well…which was just how he liked it. Whirling his axe around his head, the blade flaming like the sun, he hewed into his foes. In rapid succession, all six of them were burned to ash.
“Where is he?” Marius shouted, a look of concern on his face when he saw Mandi’s wound…a sight neither he, nor any of the other Legionnaires was used to seeing.
“Out there!” Mandi gestured. “Just blow something up!”
Marius nodded. That he understood. Fanning his fingers out, he unleashed a cone of white hot flames into the courtyard, not caring who or what he ignited in the blast. For a brief instant, he saw the bar-lgura wreathed in fire, then just as quickly the demon vanished again. However, to his shock and dismay, four more of the ape demons lumbered into the courtyard. At least he thought they were bar-lgura, at first glance. On closer inspection, he saw that they were in fact just apes, though their barbed hides and horn-plated skulls bespoke their fiendish nature, and the fact that they were all clad in armor was a testament to the fact that they were obviously more than just animals. Quickly, the warmage loosed another fiery explosion, but the war apes seemed to shrug it off, and kept advancing.
“Daelric!” Mandi shouted. “Get out here and show Marius where to shoot!”
As she pushed past the priest, the sorceress assumed her infernal pit fiend form once again, casually tearing a ghast in half to vent her frustration. Daelric sighed, not at all happy about being pushed into the front lines once more. Still, he was somewhat relieved when Octurus broke away from his undead foes and joined him at the doorway.
“Just point the way,” the Maztican said calmly.
Daelric swallowed, and then began to chant. As his spell took hold, Ulu-Thurg gradually began to fade back into visibility, his cloak purged. Octurus didn’t hesitate. With a whooping war cry, he leaped in among the demonic apes, his scimitars flashing about him. His momentum was abruptly halted, however, as a beam of blue energy struck him full on, hurled by the bar-lgura. Instantly, the Maztican felt his strength ebb. Daelric saw that he was in trouble, and the priest knew that if Octurus fell, he was next. It was time to even the playing field. Shouting out the words to another prayer, he conjured a familiar wall of whirling blades across the entire courtyard. Ulu-Thurg was forced to leap back to avoid the blades, while his ape cohorts went forward. As they scuttled clear of the wall, Sepoto joined Octurus, and his chain stopped the nearest simian in its tracks, gouging deep slashes in its hide. Octurus took the opportunity to dart between the advancing apes, hoping to reach Ulu-Thurg, but the big brutes were faster than they looked, and two of them raked the Maztican with their wickedly sharp claws as he passed. Rolling with the blows, he ended up standing inches away from the bar-lgura, Daelric’s wall the only thing separating them. Octurus gripped his blades, looking for an opening to strike, but in a blur of motion, Ulu-Thurg struck first. The demon reached through the blade barrier, heedless of the damage done to his own flesh. With his free hand, he seized the demon hunter by the shoulder, pulling him closer, while with the other, he thrust his spear completely through Octurus. Blood geysered from the Maztican’s mouth. He went momentarily rigid, before going completely limp. With disdain, Ulu-Thurg slung the human’s lifeless body behind him.
“Nooooo!” Tower Cleaver shouted. The minotaur had made his way back to the doors after dealing with the ghasts just in time to witness Octurus’s death. Snarling, he hefted his axe and hacked savagely at the nearest ape, struggling to push his way through towards the bar-lgura. A moment later, fiery bolts of lightning crackled among the combatants, striking the demon and all of his cohorts. Marius’s fingers smoked and he grinned wickedly. It wasn’t that Octurus’s demise troubled him, but it gave him a convenient excuse to fully cut loose.
Mandi continued to take out her frustrations against the remaining undead, tearing another one apart with little effort. Abruptly, the other ghasts began to back away from her.
“Why do you flee, chattel?” she called. “You are already dead. What more could you have to fear?”
In response, a bone-chilling cold suddenly filled the hall. Turning her head, Mandi saw that the inner doors had opened, and a figure stood silhouetted there by torchlight. He was dressed in antiquated plate armor, with a full, slitted helmet that only showed his crimson, glowing eyes. He carried a humming longsword in one hand, and a strange scepter in the other, topped by an emerald sphere. He made not a sound, even when he moved. Saint Kargoth the Betrayer, first among Demogorgon’s Death Knights, had come. Slowly, he brought his scepter up, and oily green smoke began to billow from it, filling the hall rapidly with a cloying fog that burned the flesh that it touched, and hindered movement as if it were quicksand.
Sepoto was unaware of what transpired in the keep behind him, though tendrils of the acidic fog licked at his boots. His fury was concentrated fully upon the foes before him, and with a flurry of vicious strikes, he took down two of the armored apes in rapid succession. One of the others, however, darted in, slashing with its barbed talons, rending the goliath’s flesh. It was at that point that the fog enveloped him completely, shutting out sight and seizing his limbs like tar. From somewhere behind him, he heard Marius’s voice chanting the words to a spell. A moment later, a powerful blast of wind swept through the hall, dissipating the deadly mist in a matter of seconds. Sepoto turned and beheld Kargoth, and he felt the cold of the grave seep into his skin.
Things began to happen more quickly after that. The Legionnaires found themselves fighting a battle on two fronts, caught between very deadly enemies. Daelric darted across the antechamber, heading for the relative safety in Cleaver’s shadow. As he moved, however, Kargoth was like a wraith, silent and swift, swinging his blade with deadly accuracy. The young priest felt the cold steel bite deeply into his flesh, and its touch burned like the fires of the Hells. The Death Knight then raised both hands to the sky, and dark power gathered around him like a cloak. When he unleashed it, a dry wind, like a desert sirocco blew through the five remaining companions, leaching the moisture from their bodies like a vampire. All mouths went dry, and even sweat dried to nothing in an instant. Desperately licking his lips so that they would form the words to a spell, Marius conjured the brilliant radiance of pure sunlight. For a moment, Kargoth recoiled, but when the warmage unleashed the beam, it passed harmlessly through the death knight, striking the fleeing Daelric instead. The priest screamed as he flesh was seared, and Kargoth turned his baleful gaze towards Marius.
Sepoto and Cleaver moved to interpose themselves between the death knight and the gnome, but when they turned their backs, Ulu-Thurg’s apes rushed forward, clawing and biting at their exposed flanks. At the same time, Ulu-Thurg, still behind the relative safety of the blade barrier, began loosing volley after volley of arcane force missiles, each one striking any target he indicated unerringly. Sepoto hesitated, torn between foes, and Kargoth closed the distance between himself and Marius. He raised blade and scepter to strike, but before his weapons fell, an enormous, glowing hand materialized behind him and seized him in its crushing grip.
“I have him!” Mandi shouted.
Cleaver and Sepoto needed no further encouragement. Together they struck, and though their combined might was devastating, Kargoth uttered not a sound. Instead, red fire coalesced around him in a searing corona, then at his command it expanded, filling the hall, engulfing the Legionnaires. Mandi clenched her teeth in agony.
“Finish him!” she cried.
No sooner had she spoken, than another radiant sunbeam flew from Marius’s hand, and this time it struck true. Kargoth was immolated in an instant, reduced to a rapidly dissipating cloud of ash.
In the mean time, Ulu-Thurg’s apes had reached the hall, and they continued their relentless assault on Sepoto, who still struggled to recover from the death knight’s withering attacks. Crying out in pure rage, the goliath crusader stretched to his full height, biceps rippling as he swung his chain like a guillotine. It crushed the skull of the first ape, then Sepoto pivoted and ripped its full length across the torso of the second, opening it from neck to groin. It crashed to the ground in a rapidly growing pool of its own blood.
Only Ulu-Thurg remained. The loss of his minions did not trouble him overly. They were tools, and they had served their purpose. The enemies of his master had been severely weakened, and now he would finish them all. No sooner had he formed this thought, however, than he saw the hulking minotaur charging towards him. Through the blade barrier Tower Cleaver came, undeterred by the thousands of minute cuts that appeared in his flesh. Axe raised, his eyes glazed over and froth and saliva slung from his jaws. Insensate with rage, he fell upon the bar-lgura, and in that moment, Ulu-Thurg understood that death, violent and bloody, had come for him.